presumably-in-no-kuntrol: Why she agreed she quite possibly may never know. It no longer seemed of s
presumably-in-no-kuntrol: Why she agreed she quite possibly may never know. It no longer seemed of significance to even ask. She had been restless for far too long; that incessant clawing a constant nuisance, one she was unable to tame. Perhaps this chance encounter would dull the ache, would calm her frenzied soul. That was what she hoped for, that is why she did not stop to dress, instead slipping her coat over her nearly naked body, speeding through town until she reached his suite. Even now as she stood in his bedroom, adorned in stockings, heels and a silk blindfold she felt no fear. All that consumed her was a hunger, one she had spent a lifetime feeding yet never feeling fulfilled. She knew it was a risk, her being helpless, the possibility of him being a crazed criminal. Still she did not care. She needed something, anything to feel alive, to invoke the passion she knew existed but had never experienced. This was not safe. This was reckless and the mere acknowledgment of her actions caused a wave of salacious terror, one that emulated that of an electric bolt pulsating first in the core of her cunt, exploding up through her torso. Where the fuck was he? Why was he making her wait? Maybe it was a game. Had she been set up? Just as she was reaching to remove the fabric from her eyes she heard footsteps. A heavy masculine stride, one reinforcing her decision to come to his place, one reminding her of why she was standing nude, desperate, putting herself in potential danger. “You look beautiful. I was uncertain if you would come. I am pleased not to be disappointed.” His breath pierced her as she felt him speak, each word whispered against her exposed neck. “I can not promise you will like everything I do to you. What I can promise you is that you will never be the same.“ His words were nearly cryptic and had he not placed the tape across her lips she believes she would have said something to stop their exchange. Now the panic was sinking; sinking deep. Now she felt the tremors of her long controlling rationale. The taste of reason vile against her tongue, bitter to the point of leaving her almost nauseous. She had never been as grateful to have something silence her, forcing her to succumb to what her body craved, sedating her mind so that she may play. So that she may be played with. This was going to be a day she would not forget. A moment she would never escape from. This would be her turning point, regardless of what would happen. -- source link